


They'll Tell You Now, You're the Lucky One

by youren0tahero



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M, another soul mate!au as if you haven't read enough of those, based off a post i saw on tumblr, follows the lines of canon, kinda canon i guess, ok thanks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2014-05-11
Packaged: 2018-01-24 09:59:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1600742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youren0tahero/pseuds/youren0tahero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where everyone wakes up on their eighteenth birthday with the first words their soul mate tells them tattooed on their wrists, fifteen year old Blaine Anderson is one of the lucky ones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	They'll Tell You Now, You're the Lucky One

**Author's Note:**

> This is based off of [this](http://kenezbian.tumblr.com/post/83532261235/soulmate-au-where-you-wake-up-on-your-18th) post because the first thing I thought when I read it was " _Klaine_." The title came from the song "[The Lucky One](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EZsWTIFN9MY)" by Taylor Swift.
> 
> I'm sorry for any and all mistakes, I wrote this in like an hour and didn't beta it. I just needed to get the idea out of my head.

Blaine’s sitting at lunch with Wes when he finally notices it.

He’s in the middle of a very important speech about how they need to alter the set list for sectionals, removing the plastic wrap from his sandwich. He notices how Wes hasn’t really had much contribution to this topic, and how that is unlike him. When he looks up from his sandwich, he finds Wes staring at him.

“What is it?” Blaine chuckles. “Do I have something on my face?” he asks after being met with silence to his previous question. “Oh, God. Do I have something in my _hair?_ ” Blaine panics, his eyes widening as he begins to pat his head.

“What’s on your wrist?” Wes finally speaks.

“What are you talking about? There’s nothing on my…” Blaine pulls the sleeve of his navy blazer down, revealing the skin of his right wrist. “Oh,” he breathes once he sees the small script written in black ink across his wrist. “But… I’m only fifteen…”

There, on Blaine’s inner right wrist was a soul mate mark. Everyone got one when they were eighteen. When they woke up on their eighteenth birthday, they’d have the first words their soul mates said to them marked on their wrists. So, why did he have a soul mate mark when he had only been fifteen for a few months? This couldn’t be right, could it?

“You must be one of the lucky ones,” Wes breathes, reaching out to run his fingertips across the mark. “People who meet their soul mates before they’re eighteen get the mark randomly throughout adolescence. It's _extremely_ rare, Blaine. When did it show up?”

Blaine’s eyebrows furrow and he frowns as he goes deep into thought. Had it been there that morning? Surely he would have noticed it as he got ready for school that day. Why hadn’t he noticed it when he put on his watch? Getting a soul mate mark is like getting a tattoo, weren’t tattoos supposed to hurt? Why didn’t his hurt? “I… I don’t know,” Blaine answers honestly.

The lunch bell rings and everyone begins to make their way to their next class. Wes stands, pushing in his chair and pulling his satchel over his shoulder. “Well,” he smiles. “I guess that means that you’re going to meet them soon.”

Wes leaves and the lunchroom clears out, but Blaine’s still sitting in his seat. His sandwich is long forgotten as he continues to focus on the script written on his wrist. He runs his fingers over it, the skin rising with the ink. He repeats the words over and over again in his head, memorizing them. Eventually, Blaine finally pulls his sleeve back down and walks to class, the words tattooed on his wrist now seemingly tattooed in his mind.

_‘Excuse me. Can I ask you a question? I’m new here.’_

* * *

He jumps every time someone bumps into him in the hallways.

They’ll mutter a hurried “ _Excuse me_ ” and Blaine will stop in his tracks, right in the middle of the hallway. He’ll turn around and look at the person who had just told him to excuse them and wait for the next words that’ll come out of their mouth. It’s typically something along the lines of “ _I’m really sorry,”_ or “ _What are you looking at me like that for? I_ said _excuse me.”_

There was even one instance in which Blaine was stopped by a student with “Excuse me. Can I ask you a question?” Blaine had stopped and turned to the boy, his eyes wide and his heart beating fast. He could feel his heart _soaring_ with hope that this was him— _this_ was the boy he had been waiting for. Only to come crashing down when the boy continued to ask, “Can you show me how to get to the library from here?”

It’s never “ _Can I ask you a question? I’m new here.”_

It’s been a year since Blaine’s soul mate mark has shown up. Every _“excuse me_ ” doesn’t mean a thing anymore, and Blaine begins to believe that there’s been some sort of mix up with his mark.

* * *

He’s late.

The Warblers are supposed to be putting on a performance for the school and he has the lead solo for this song. He’s on one side of the school and supposed to be on the complete opposite side in only a few minutes. He would have probably been able to make it during normal passing period if only his English teacher hadn’t asked to speak to him after class.

Now he’s late and he’s running through the halls and this time _he’s_ the one who is muttering a bunch of “ _excuse me’s”_ as he bumps into people in his rush to get to the performance room. It’s not his first solo, not by far, but it is the solo of his that will determine if he’s going to be able to audition for a solo at sectionals. He chose it himself; he got special permission from the board to perform it during school hours.

Blaine stopped jumping every time someone said excuse me a long time ago, giving up on finding his soul mate a long time ago. That comes in handy now as he makes his way over to the performance room, people saying excuse me the same time as him when they bump into one another.

Blaine finally begins to slow down, but not by very much, when he gets close to the performance hall. He finally takes his time when he reaches the staircase that’s right by where he needs to be. He pulls out his pocket watch to check if he’s going to make it on time when he’s interrupted by someone.

“Excuse me. Can I ask you a question?” Blaine freezes when he feels a hand on his shoulder. The voice is what catches his attention. It’s high in pitch, but so, _so_ , pleasant to his ears. He turns around to face the boy who had touched him, the crowd of people parting around them. He’s met with a tall boy who is standing on the step above him. His eyes are blue, and his hair is brunette and perfectly coifed. The boy clutches on to the strap of his backpack, and though he’s chewing on his bottom lip nervously he’s still _so_ beautiful. “I’m new here.”

Yes. This is him. This is the boy. This is Blaine’s soul mate. He didn’t even need to finish the words written on Blaine’s wrist for Blaine to know that this is the person he’ll spend the rest of his life with. Blaine knew the moment he heard his voice. He smiles wide, holding out his hand to the boy above him. “My name’s Blaine.”

The boy’s eyes widen then, too, and he lets out a small gasp before taking Blaine’s hand in his. And if Blaine wasn’t sure that this boy was his soul mate before, any hint of a doubt is erased from his mind the moment he sees the boy smile. As they shake hands, Blaine can see black script peek out from the boy’s jacket sleeves—’ _my name’s Blaine.’_

“Kurt,” he replies.

And the rest is history.


End file.
